Silver Bells
by Beverly McIntyre
Summary: Written for the 1999 C-Fan Holiday Project. A typical working Christmas for Silver Sable and her Wild Pack.


**Silver Bells  
By Beverly McIntyre **

_Disclaimer: Silver Sable and her Wild Pack belong to Marvel. I am using them without permission, but at no profit. Kindly don't sue. _

_Feedback: Can be sent to bkittle@creighton.edu_

* * *

**A gust of biting, December wind cut through the tightly packed alleys of Paris. Most of the denizens were out in the main thoroughfares partying up at some elaborate party or another.**

**A black leather boot splashed through a puddle of slush.**

**Slight crackles of conversation floated up from behind the running man. **

***crkt* **_This is Team Gamma. We've lost the target. Report?_** *crkt* **

***crkt* **_Team Beta. We're caught up in a crowd of partiers. It'll be a few before we can escape the Christmas cheer. _***crkt* **

**The man glanced over his shoulder to see the whitish ghost get closer. His lungs screamed from breathing in the frigid air as he pushed harder. His leather jacket flapped openly against the green and yellow emblem underneath. **

***crkt* **_Team Alpha. Unh. I'm down. Repeat. I'm down. Shot in the leg. Not moving anywhere soon. Boss is following. Lost sight of the target and Boss two minutes ago._** *crkt* **

**A gravelly voice came over, concern etched in its grainy surface. *crkt*** _Does she have a commset?_** *crkt* **

***crkt* **_Yeah, she had a headset. Don't know if it's working. The target managed a surprise attack. Shot her set. Unh. This feels so good on the hard pavement._** *crkt* **

***crkt* **_Crippler. _***crkt* It sounded like a warning, huskily feminine with a hint of an Asian accent. **

***crkt* **_Chen? I'm waitin' for you, darling._** *crkt* **

**The gravelly voice boomed. *crkt*** _Crippler! Last known location of Silver and the perp._** *crkt* **

**The runner checked over his shoulder again. She was moving closer silently and quickly, dim light dancing across her white hair. Adrenaline kicked in as he spotted her hand glinting silver. **

***crkt* **_Hrr. Oooh. That feels nice. Best estimate, several blocks to the west. Can somebody come over here and break my other leg? That would feel nice with the gunshot wound._** *crkt* **

**The woman's voice again. *crkt*** _Crippler, hush. Team Gamma is closest to Crippler's position. We'll pick him up if Beta's out of the crowd? _***crkt* **

***crkt* **_We're out and moving toward Sable._** *crkt* **

**The runner sweated against the yellow octopus symbol on his chest. If he could make it a hundred more meters, he could get lost in the busy thoroughfare ahead. Pushing his rubber legs harder, he lowered his head against the wind and sprinted with his last reserves of energy. **

The whitish ghost paused, raising her silver hand as a puff of steam from a nearby building obscured her. 

*crkt* _Got some movement up ahead. Checking it out._** *crkt* **

The ghost's hand twitched down slightly. 

A condensed clap of thunder rolled out of the steam, and the runner pitched forward. He landed face-down in a pile of snow. He howled slightly in pain, grabbing the openly bleeding leg. 

*crkt* _God! That was a gunshot. Silver! If you can hear me, please respond!_** *crkt* **

Silver Sable looked down through the clearing puff of steam at the broken commset dangling around her neck. She slowly holstered her gun and picked up the broken mic. She eyed it critically before dropping it back around her neck. 

*crkt* _Silver?_** *crkt* **

She looked down at the bleeding Hydra agent. He was whimpering in pain as she strode up to him. 

"Please," **he groaned.** "Please, let me live." 

**Sable crouched down next to him. "I've let you live once. I could have killed you before you got more than ten steps closer to the street."**

"Please, I'll, unh, I'll tell you everything I know." 

**Sable chuckled softly. "You know nothing. You're so far down Hydra's chain of command, you only know the lies they propagate. Count yourself lucky." **

"Lucky?" **he spat at her.** "Lucky?!?" 

**He swiped at her face, hoping to leave a black and blue mark across that porcelain skin. **

Sable blocked the incoming blow with her forearm, dropping to one knee to get a better balance out of her low position. Before the man could venture to strike again, she cracked her fist across his chin. His head snapped into the pavement, shaking consciousness away from him with a tremor. 

Slowly rising up to her feet, Sable looked down at the unconscious Hydra agent. "Yes, lucky," she muttered. "Must be the spirit of the season. I normally wouldn't be so lenient." 

*crkt* _Found her!_** *crkt* **

Sable looked down the alley as the odd mixture of echo from her commset and the acoustics of the alley carried Sandman's voice to her attention. He rushed up with a uniformed Powell hot on his heels. 

"Silver, you all right?" 

"I'm quite fine." 

"We heard the gunshot and thought-" 

"I'm as fine as any woman who ran over five kilometers of Parisian alleyways because the people she employs are incompetent enough to not catch one, human Hydra agent can be." 

Sandman heard Powell suck in a breath of cold air. They both knew a verbal reaming was heading their way. 

"Collect him up and take him to the jet." 

Both men looked at each other in confusion. 

"Ma'am?" Powell ventured forth. 

"Powell?" Sable sounded calm enough. 

Powell quickly tried to think of something to ask other than if she was having a warm, fuzzy moment standing over an unconscious, bleeding Hydra agent. "Um, can we have leave for the holidays? Some of us have families t'visit. And Sam's momma makes some of the best Christmas puddin' that Ah've-" 

"Granted. After we deposit this Hydra agent to the Symkarian Embassy here in Paris." 

The pony-tailed Southern man scratched his head in confusion. Sable had never really been for giving her employees leave. They had already worked through two Christmases previously. He wasn't going to push this though. 

Sable watched both men manhandle the Hydra agent after bandaging up his leg. She waited as the rest of the Wild Pack regrouped, with the wounded Crippler tossed over Battlestar's shoulder. She looked over her team. They weren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, they could use serious training after today's incident. 

She eyed her band of ragtag mercenaries, jostling each other and making jokes as they loaded up the transport that had been following most of the chase. Snippets of boasts floated back, Battlestar claiming his grandmother's yams could beat Sam's homemade sweet bread any day. 

Sable looked to the grey sky as a small, white snowflake fluttered past. Maybe she would let it go for now. 

But when they got back from their holiday, Sable smirked to herself. They could use some time to relax. They were going to need it.

*********

~fin


End file.
